In the Heat of the Blazing Sun
by JakobiFlyingFox
Summary: Mama V and Bradley were two souls caught up in a tumultuous past of hurt, loss, and pain. Outcast, they must work towards recovery, even as they traverse the baking heat of the South African sunlight, spurred on by memories and want. Will they succeed in their quest, or is all for naught? PREQUEL to Khumba
1. Chapter 1

Vivian glanced up. The familiar heat of the day was already causing her hair to frizz, and the buzzing flies were incessant. The wildebeest snorted as she shook her head to clear off the annoying insects. Beside her, a young calf munched contentedly on dry grass shoots. This was her child, her precious daughter, her Mosi.

Vivian grinned slightly, swinging her head around to nuzzle the calf. Mosi grunted as she shifted away from her mother's touch. "Mo-om," she whined. "You're gonna mess up my mane again!"

Vivian's smile grew. "Child, you're perfect, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Mosi rolled her eyes. "You tell me that every day, Mom." The little calf shook her head, making her sparse mane flick.

"It's true,"

Mosi rolled her eyes again, but this time the gesture was more humorous. Her mom put other helicopter parents to shame, but in a good sort of way. She paused to continue munching and then her gaze swept upwards, at the crystal clear, azure skies. "When is it gonna rain, Mom?"

"Oh, the rain comes and goes, child." Vivian replied. "And it'll come again."

"Yeah, but when?" Mosi wasn't satisfied. It was the height of the dry season and though Mosi had been born only a month or two prior along with the rest of the herd's offspring, she was impatient. All she'd heard lately was talk of rain, how good it was, how grateful the animals would be, it was getting to be a little too much. Every day she would ask the same question, and it seemed that the rainy season wasn't any nearer than when she'd started.

Vivian glanced back down at her daughter. "Soon, child," she responded, gently. "Soon."

"Soon..." Mosi mumbled, going back to her dry grasses. "What's rain like?" She asked through a mouthful.

Vivian sighed, as if she were reminiscent. "It's wonderful, Mosi. And it'll bring life back to Africa."

Mosi chewed thoughtfully, wondering how on earth it could be that life could simply be brought back. But she said nothing and continued eating in silence.

* * *

"I don't know what you want me to say about him. He's an ostrich. May be a bit on the small side, but hey, sell him cheap if ya want, I don't care. Just as long as I'm rid of him!" A scrawny sunburnt man complained. He stood with his arms folded, glaring at the big truck-trailer in front of him, the back portion of which housed a rather disgruntled-looking ostrich.

The driver of the truck, a cheerful Nigerian, chuckled at the other man's discontent. "He can't be that bad, mate."

"You don't even wanna know, Maurice!" The sunburnt man snapped back. "I've had it with this nitwit! Everything sets him off!" He threw his hands in the air. "I wouldn't be surprised if he went around causing all this trouble on purpose!"

"On purpose?" Maurice grinned, his dark-skinned face crinkling. "Seth, I think you've been spending too much time in the sun. Look, I'll take him off your hands. Maybe my birds will whip him into shape."

Seth grumbled. "Whatever." He swept his fingers under his straw cap, through his sweat-soaked hair. He inhaled slowly. "Good luck, Maurice."

Maurice raised his hand as he started the ignition, and waved as he drove away. The ostrich in the back snorted, sputtering at the cloud of dust that flew up into his face. Struggling to maintain balance atop his spindly legs, the ostrich, called Bradley, found himself being knocked around the little trailer like a pinball. "Well, if this isn't - _oof!_ \- completely undignified!" He grunted in an uncharacteristic British accent, slipping and sliding. "It's gonna take hours to - _oww! -_ preen my wings back to normal!"

This wasn't the first time Bradley'd found himself in the predicament of moving to a new ostrich farm. Lately, it had become something of a habit. Something went wrong, he was usually put to blame, and then he was shipped off. "Wifout having proper representation, even!" He cried, irritated. Flicking his wings to steady himself, the ostrich eventually found the happy medium as the truck continued its trek through the dusty South African landscape.

Bradley had come to expect these changes in his lifestyle as natural, however humiliating they would be. All the other ostriches would boast and brag about their future trips to _l'abattoir_ , which was something all ostrich farm inhabitants would make. Bradley stewed. He had never gotten the chance to see this _l'abattoir_ because every time the trips came around, he was usually being packaged up and sent off! Oh, it was so infuriating! What was so great about this _l'abattoir_ , anyway? It sounded French so it must be fancy, was Bradley's - and the other ostriches' - reasoning.

But now, here was Bradley, once again being moved to yet another ostrich farm. "Wot does this make, then? The fifth time? Or is that being too generous?" Seriously, why couldn't he just stick to one place?

The truck hit a bump, which sent Bradley toppling into the hard sides of the trailer. "Hey!" He called, knowing that it was useless to talk to humans. "Watch the road, will ya!" He elbowed the metal sides moodily. He knew exactly why he couldn't stay in one place: he was a severely under-appreciated artiste and the other ostriches were jealous! "Well, it's true!" Bradley insisted to no one. He had long had an eye for detail, so was it really his fault when one or four feeding troughs were ruined? "Wot they call 'ruining', I call 'sprucing up'! And besides, it's not like they were being used for anything im- _por_ -tant! There was art at stake!"

Bradley gloomily slumped against the jittery sides of the trailer, waiting for his next destination's grand unveiling.

* * *

 **Saw this movie recently and fell in love with it, so I decided that it needed a fanfic ;3**


	2. Chapter 2

About a quarter of an hour later, and after much fuming and fussing, Bradley felt the van slow, and when he looked up he felt his beak drop. This new ostrich farm was twice the size of his last one! "Where do they get all these birds?" He murmured softly in surprise. However, his wonder was short-lived as the back of the van suddenly opened up, and Bradley was looking down upon Maurice. The man held an electric prod in one hand, but his cheerful smile told the bird that it most likely wouldn't be used.

"Come on then, mate," Maurice encouraged.

Bradley fluffed up his feathers and made an indignant sort of snort. He would come when he wanted to – even if he was really curious about this new place and did want to see it – and not a moment before, and there was nothing this human could do to make him!

Almost as if Maurice could read the ostrich's thoughts, he primed the electric prod, and the tip buzzed and glowed a bright blue. Bradley started, and he raised an eyebrow. _Oh, is that how we're gonna play?_

Maurice said again, his voice tone even, "Come on. Your new friends are waiting." He waved the prod in the direction of the gate.

 _How is this guy so calm?_ Bradley didn't like it. At his last home, the man Seth would always give in after a few moments of obstinacy, and would usually give in by stomping his foot and swatting with his hat.

But Maurice was different. And Bradley wasn't sure he wanted to see how this man was going to react. So he stepped forward, his two-toed feet sliding down the slick metal of the van's ramp, until he reached dry earth. Maurice was guiding him in front, the prod still in his fist. Bradley eyed it suspiciously.

He followed at a slow sort of strut, his big moss-green eyes sweeping across the vast fenced area in amazement. As he gazed, he couldn't help the little flutter in his ribcage. Now this was what he was talking about! This space, with all its superb openness, was just what he needed! "Finally!" He whispered.

With Maurice leading him, Bradley strode through the big gate and then into one of the many spacious pens. Maurice hadn't used the prod once. He rarely did, if ever. He felt that all the big birds needed was some respect, that and a little visual reference just so they knew who was in charge. Maurice whistled cheerfully as he locked the gate and then walked to his front door, prod balanced over his shoulder. He figured he'd better call Seth just to let him know how the journey had gone. He had no doubt the bird he'd just purchased could act out - after all, Maurice was a seasoned farmer and knew the big birds well. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for him.

* * *

It was now late afternoon, nearing evening, and Vivian's herd had since moved on from the plains. It had been an unproductive day for the wildebeests, between chewing mouthfuls of dry plains-grass and keeping a sharp lookout for stalking predators, the herd found the hours to pass in relative leisure. Now, Vivian and Mosi were traveling shoulder-to-shoulder, keeping quiet but not silent.

As the heat started to ebb, Mosi spoke. "Now how much longer till the rains?"

Vivian chuckled. Her daughter's persistence both astounded and amused her. "Mosi, child, look up above you."

Mosi did, and blinked up at the darkening sky, once a bright azure, now a cool bright sapphire flecked with turquoise. Mosi gasped softly. "What am I looking at?"

"The sky, child."

"I know that, but what exactly?"

"When the rain comes, there'll be clouds. This whole sky will be covered, mm-hm."

"The _whole_ sky?" Mosi's jaw dropped slightly.

Vivian nodded.

Mosi inhaled. "So when will it be covered?"

Vivian sighed. "Child, you are like to talk my ears off." She gently nudged her firstborn.

Mosi giggled softly. "Sorry, I'm just excited."

"Me too, my love. My too."

The herd continued its trek in search of a resting place. Wildebeest were group-minded, and there was safety in numbers. As long as they all remained in a group, there was little any predator could do to them. However, little did they know to be mindful of one predator in particular.

A leopard - massive and sinewy - was following the herd at a distance. An unnatural distance. An accident at birth had caused this cat's right eye to become blinded.

But not completely useless.

* * *

 **Wazzzaap yo!**

 **Slowly, very slowly am I attempting to update. Here's to hoping this energy is here to stay :)**

 **R &R!**


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